


Stir-Up Sunday

by tackytiger



Series: Drarry Drabbles [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baking, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tackytiger/pseuds/tackytiger
Summary: Harry bakes, Draco interrupts him.Three hundred words of festive fluff.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry Drabbles [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1394383
Comments: 28
Kudos: 93





	Stir-Up Sunday

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Воскресенье перед рождественским адвентом](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052826) by [Iritena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iritena/pseuds/Iritena)



“Stir up, we beseech thee,” Draco said, as he absentmindedly ate some raisins out of his cupped hand, and then leaned right over the mixing bowl and equally absentmindedly kissed Harry on the mouth. His hair was probably in the batter and he tasted of dark fruit, and rum, and the promise of something delicious.

"Don't," Harry said, and, "Your lovely hair.”

“I don’t want to ruin your pudding, Potter,” Draco said, his mouth moving close and warm against Harry’s.

“Our pudding,” Harry said, and Draco pulled back, eyes narrowing, and nodded.

"Just add more Guinness," was all he said, but he was almost smiling, so Harry dropped the wooden spoon into the mix and wrapped a long coil of Draco’s hair around his fist.

“It’s so silky,” he said, and he was almost embarrassed by how rough and low his voice sounded, except that Draco went a bit pink and leaned eagerly into the slow careful pull of Harry’s grip.

“The batter or my hair?” Draco said lightly, but neither of them laughed, and Harry put the bowl down on the counter top so he had both hands free to touch.

“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”

Draco was quiet like this, head tilted to follow where Harry led, top lip wet from the Rémy Martin and Harry’s kiss. Beside them, from the saucepan on the hob, steam uncurled in languorous puffs. The air was heavy with its dense moist heat.

“Fuck your pudding,” Draco said impatiently, and then warningly, “That’s _not_ what I meant,” and reached for Harry greedily, and Harry finally did laugh at that, though only for a moment because then they were kissing properly, and anyway it was _their_ pudding.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr. click here!


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